As if it were real and still a hopless dream
by Diana Prallon
Summary: You nearly scream, dizzy with lust and lost in the never-ending task of adoring every inch of her."


There is no one around when you finally get into the common room. It is very strange, even suspicious, and you wonder if there is some kind of prank going on that you didn't heard about. It would certainly fit: it's the last night before the holidays and everyone knows that James Potter and Sirius Black don't ever miss a chance to make some extra noise, and this is certainly what they would call a special occasion. You should be used to it by now, hanging out with Lily Evans all the time since that day -- that awful day, which you still don't talk about -- after your DADA OWL.

You know you can't replace _him_; you can't be as close to her as he was, and you can see in her eyes, when they meet, that even if she pretends that they never knew each other, it still hurts. You can't blame her, either, Merlin knows what you would have done if that happened with you. Truth is you hate -him- as much as if it _had _happened with you. You can't even bare to think about his name, you can't handle her sorrow.

Everything is quiet and warm around you two as the portrait swings back to its place, and you're already waiting for the moment when something annoying will happen and James will come around laughing and teasing you two about how you two should have known better. He seems to think that it's a good strategy teasing Lily and then being all over her, it's a weird kind of courtship, and rather silly, you think.

Not that you can blame him for have feelings for her, you could never do it. You know all too well what it is like pining over Lily Evans while she never seems to consider you as a suitable candidate. That has been pretty much your life since last spring. You can't really say you don't know why he goes into so much trouble to make her notice him, you'd do the same. You -do- the same, apart from the fact that she doesn't seem so irritated with you, she probably doesn't even realize how you feel.

You two take three steps, just three steps inside the common room and wait. Nothing happens. You sigh and try to look like you were distracted, hoping it will be over soon, and look to the ceiling.

You can see the mistletoe hanging from in, and you feel like laughing from the irony. Were you a boy, you could be hoping for the traditional kiss, but you aren't, so all you can do is humor yourself about it.

It is very cliché, and cheesy, you know it. Still, you can't stop yourself from wishing it could happen, wishing so hard that you have to struggle to breath. Wishing so much you could even as for it as a Christmas gift from Santa. Things were certainly easy when you could believe in Santa. And then you thank all the gods you can remember that Lily Evans isn't a Legimens, for you would die if she even suspected all the things you think about her during those silent seconds.

You try to take your mind away from it, your eyes away from the mistletoe, but you two had been trying some firewhisky just some minutes ago, and your head can't really think about convenience, and it makes your eyes travel from the mistletoe to the girl beside you, and that is hardly better.

It is, actually, much worse: seeing her right now just makes you burn even more from the inside, wanting something you know to be impossible. Her pale skin is just a few inches away from you, her red hair shining under the Christmas candles, her green eyes very alert, looking for mischief. And all of these little details just turn you on, even more than the thought of a kiss.

It isn't just lust, you know it, and it's more than that. It isn't just about how pretty she looks, or how her voice sounds, you didn't even notice those things at first. Her spirit attracts you, her ideas and her skills; the very way she deals with people and moves around the place as if she had been born to be a Prefect. You want her, of course (how could one not? She is so _soft_), and you love her, but more than that, you adore her with all your heart.

She looks back at you, frowning, and her voice seems a bit slow when she talks to you.

"What?"

"I was expecting a prank" you say, looking around again. You still can't believe the common room is just -innocently- empty and silent.

"Me too" she confesses, and looks up, just as you did a couple moments ago. "Mistletoe" she points out, and laughs. It is amazing how the mere sound makes you see that ridiculous situation again and you two just can't seem to stop. The sound fills the whole room, and it suddenly it doesn't seem so eerie the fact that no one is around. It isn't dangerous, you can control yourself, and it is a stupid tradition to kiss under de mistletoe.

It also is stupid the way you keep on noticing her eyes, her hair, and the way her body moves as she walks, but you rather not think about it. Lily is smooth; smells like fresh grass and vanilla pie, and you think she must taste like meringues. You dream about her - day and night - and its harder everyday the fact that she doesn't know about it.

She won't measure her words or her movements around you, she will walk as she always does (and you can see her skirts moving as she walks, the way she manages to make something so simple almost sinful), she will lean closer to you to tell you a secret (you can feel her breath touching your ears, your neck), she will giggle when some boy tries to flirt with her (and this makes your face grow hot, you envy them). You know you're almost out of control, you know this feeling won't take you anywhere other than your own destruction. Still, you rather face Voldemort himself than telling her about any of it (when he finally comes to you, and you know you will die, you remember her smile).

"Come on" she says, and all you can do is follow her, not even trusting yourself to speak. Lily seems to be a bit tipsy, even more than you are, and has a hard time trying to reach the sofa. She falls into it, instead of sitting, and laughs about it. You laugh too, she doesn't seem graceful now, you can even forget about how you feel for some moments, now she's just a girl who drank too much. You seat in the floor beside her, still laughing.

"Oh, Merlin, the ceiling is moving" she says, staring up. You look at it, as well, and it seems that nothing can stand still. You grip the sofa with your hands, as if it could help you not to fall.

"I think I'm a bit drunk" you say, trying to look serious, but the amused look in Lily's face makes you burst out laughing again.

"Oh, Dorcas, you're adorable" she says, patting your head. "The most adorable girl I have ever met".

You look at her, and her eyes seem to pull you out of yourself. You can't laugh - you can't think about anything, but about what she just said. You know it's nothing, still, you know you'll cherish it as if it were promises of everlasting love. She has a half-hidden grin in the corner of her mouth, and she is looking right into your eyes. It is almost automatic, leaning closer to her, wanting a kiss so much your mouth tingling with anticipation. Everything else seems to be too far away. It feels almost like a dream, when she also leans closer, just a few inches away from you. Your eyes are still in hers, and you can't really believe she's teasing you like that.

"Lily... Don't." It is all you manage to say. You don't trust yourself to resist such a temptation.

"Have you never felt...? Curious about it?" she asks, still close. You're almost trembling.

"About what?" you ask, and you know you're being thick, but you're dreading what can happen as much as you want it.

"Snogging another girl" she says, simply, as if it was obvious.

Well, truth be said, it was obvious.

"Oh, Lily..." is all you can manage, before moving yourself even closer.

"It will be fine" she whispers. "I won't scare you, I promise"

You almost could laugh at those words, but you see her eyelids fluttering and she's so close now you can feel her breath touching your lips, her mouth slightly parted, and you can't think about anything anymore.

"I will kiss you now, Dorcas" she says, and you wish she hasn't for you are already feeling the shivers running through your body.

When her lips touch yours (very lightly, as you always imagined, but not sweet, the sour taste of firewhisky is still there), you tremble with pleasure. It is all you ever wanted, her lips touching you, her hands running through your hair. You pull her closer, allowing yourself to touch her hair, your fingers gliding through her face, feeling her skin. You move your hands to the back of her neck, trying to hold her, but all you manage is to pull her out of the sofa and the two of you fall in the carpet, laughing out loud.

"That didn't go very well" you say, trying to shut down the fact that you wanted more.

"Maybe we should try again" she says, and you don't even wait for another word before leaning closer and kissing her again.

You can feel her hands in your back, her body close touching yours in your thigh embrace, her breath heavier by the second, and her lips making patterns down your neck. You can hear your own moan as if it belonged to someone else, and you can't control your hands anymore. You touch her skin, uncover her body, and listen to her random words of pleasure. You allow her to feel you in anyway she wants to, you forget you two are in the common room, you forget everything but how her lips melt against yours. You don't even know how those clothes got in the floor, or when did you learn to do such things, you don't want to think, you can't think, you just feel.

You can see her now, sweaty, almost naked, her cheeks pink, her body as beautiful as ever. She's there, she's yours, and she's saying your name out loud and asking for more, asking you not to stop.

And you won't stop, you'll do anything she wants you to, you don't want that moment to end. You nearly scream when she touches you back, dizzy with lust and lost in the never-ending task of adoring her every inch.

You have no idea how much time has gone by when it finally ends (so early, way too soon), but you're happy to see her smiling.

"I was right" she says, slowly fixing her clothes, putting her tie back.

"About what?" you ask, sleepy.

"You are the most adorable girl I ever met" she says, with a grin, and kisses you again.

You know it won't last. You know it might never even happen again. Still, somehow, you know she won't regret it by the morning. You know that deep down this was the beginning of the end, but you can't feel sad about it. It was worth it. It was worth everything you had gone through, and somehow, it was worth everything that lay in your future (the last thing you thought about when you saw the green light heading over you was her pretty face heavy with pleasure, her voice moaning your name, the perfect peace in her eyes, you wished she was still safe).

You knew it was a dead end, you knew it would never be more than a few dreamy nights; you knew Lily would never, ever, be yours for real, but it didn't matter.

It would always be a hopeless dream, you knew it.

Still, on that night, you felt like it was real.


End file.
